


schemes of darkness

by fathomless



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bellamy and Clarke fight in the pit, Canon Compliant, F/M, Season/Series 05, Set during 5x08, or do they really, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 20:39:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15081281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fathomless/pseuds/fathomless
Summary: “Bellamy...” she started, voice already beginning to break. “There’s nothing we can do at this point.”“You don’t-““Yes, I do. We’re trapped here until they come for us, and from there, we’re thrown into the pit. We both know how it has to end.” She forced herself to meet his eyes, and in them, found her own fears reflected back at her.Canon divergent, set during 5x08. What if Bellamy and Clarke had been forced to fight in the pit?





	schemes of darkness

The room they’re thrown into is dark, lit only by streams of light filtering in through the hall. Clarke blinked several times, either to adjust to the bare amount of light or move away the tears stinging at the back of her eyes, she wasn’t sure. She slid down the wall, letting out a breath as she leaned her head on her knees. A moment later, Bellamy was at her side and his hand moved to cover hers, linking their fingers.

“We’ll figure something out,” he whispered, breaking the silence.

_Figure something out?_

They were sentenced to fight in the pit the following morning. Two would enter, one would leave. She felt her stomach sink at the thought. There was nothing to figure out, for once. They had hit a dead end.

“Bellamy...” she started, voice already beginning to break. “There’s nothing we can do at this point.”

“You don’t-“

“ _Yes_ , I do. We’re trapped here until they come for us, and from there, we’re thrown into the pit. We both know how it has to end.” She forced herself to meet his eyes, and in them, found her own fears reflected back at her. In an attempt to comfort them both, she squeezed his hand.

“Our fight is _not_ over,” he repeated the words he had said to her all of those years ago in Becca’s lab, and despite her trying to keep it together, a few tears broke free. He brought his other hand up, gently wiping them away, stopping to move his thumb along her jaw.

“No, ours isn’t.” She shook her head, giving him a sad smile. “But _mine_ is.”

He jerked away at her words, shaking his head in disbelief. “No. No, Clarke. I’m not—“

“We’ll fight, we’ll make it look fair, and then in the end,” she swallowed, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. _How did they come to this point?_ “You’re the one who walks away. I need you to keep Madi safe, okay? Promise me.” He stood up, raking a hand through his hair, and she followed. She needed this to be the plan. Stern this time, she called to him, “ _Bellamy_.”

“How can you— how can you expect me to so easily be okay with killing you?” Moving closer to him, through the sparse light, she could see the tears gleaming in his eyes, the torn expression on his face to match. She wanted nothing more than to tell him it would all be okay, but knew that wasn’t the case. “You’re the one who needs to walk away from this, Clarke. Take care of Madi yourself.”

She steeled herself, answering with a firm, “No.”

“Clarke—“

“I said _no_ , Bellamy. It has to be you.” She took another step towards him, taking ahold of his hands, soft but sure. He closed his eyes momentarily, dipping his head.

“I can’t lose you again, not for good; not at my hand.” His voice was hardly a whisper, but the pain he felt was still evident. In a moment of bravery, Clarke moved her hand to his chin, forcing his head up.

“Hey,” she whispered. “I can’t lose you, either, but,” she took a moment, moving her hand to his shoulder. “You lived without me for six years. You don’t need me anymore, Bellamy. Meanwhile, I,” she took an unsteady breath, knowing she needed to tell him as he stared at her in confusion. He needed to know. “I held onto you. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you, wonder what you were doing; talk to you.”

At his silence, she continued.

“You know,” she said, quiet, tentative. “I’m not so sure Clarke Griffin could function in a world without Bellamy Blake.”

Even when he was in space, her unsure of his fate, she still held onto part of him, unable to let him go. If not for her talking to him every day, she’s not sure what would have become of her. She needed him. It was true all of those years ago, and it remained true now.

“Clarke,” he started, but she ignored it. Her eyes burned, her throat hurt but she knew that, no matter tomorrow’s outcome, he needed to hear what she had to say, and she needed to say it.

“But I _am_ sure that Bellamy Blake knows how to survive in a world without Clarke Griffin.” She heard his sharp intake of breath, and moved her hand to his face, knowing this was likely one of the last conversations she would have with him. _It felt like Praimfaya all over again._

The silence between them was deafening as he moved to wipe a stray piece of hair out of her face.

“Only because, in that world, he was living _for_ her.” He smiled softly, pulling her close to him, one hand around her waist, the other in her hair. Hers automatically wrapped around his waist, face buried against his shoulder.

“You’re _so_ important to me, you know that?” She mumbled, feeling him nod.

“You know the same goes for me, right?” He asked, smiling as she did the same.

They both felt the weight of their words, knew that it meant much more than it seemed to on the surface. She sighed, wishing, for once, that life would be kind to the two of them.

Then, in an effort to make him smile, even if only partially,“You’re totally kicking my ass tomorrow.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, Clarke. You’re kicking mine.”

* * *

The first thing Clarke noticed about being in the pit was how loud the sounds from above seemed. Octavia sat on her throne, red smeared across her forehead, seemingly unbothered despite sending her brother to his possible death. Clarke couldn’t say she was surprised; caring for Bellamy certainly wasn’t one of her strong suits.

Bellamy stood across from her, the two of them circling each other in an effort to drag things out. He furrowed his brow in what seemed to be a way of telling her to make a move, but she shook her head. This time around the circle, he moved in, catching her off guard and pulling her into what was, without a doubt, the loosest chokehold she had ever been in.

“What are you doing?” He hissed into her ear, bringing his sword to rest slightly against her throat, the lightest of pressure being added to make things seem believable. They couldn’t afford to make anyone suspicious.

She swallowed, pulling against his hold without much force, then, only loud enough for him to hear, “Trying to avoid having to kill you.”

“ _Clarke_.” She broke free from his hold, swinging her sword, meeting his. “Just do it, make it easier on both of us.”

“You know I refuse to do that,” she shook her head as he swept her feet out from under her, causing her to lose her breath. Her back hit the ground and she closed her eyes, opening them seconds later to meet his, full of pain and desperation and so much _more_ , as he knelt above her.

It was then, the ever present ache in her heart chose to make its appearance known, and despite the fact that she had known for a long time what it meant, this time was different.

She pulled him down with her, eyes never leaving his as she rolled to kneel with the sword pressed against his throat, hoping beyond hope that he would fight back.

The cheers from the crowd around them filled her ears, but as she looked at him, all she heard was silence.

_She loved him._

She knew it was true, had known it was true, but the thought had never made her heart ache as much as it did then.

He rolled, bringing her with him, then they stood, facing each other.

“Just do it already, Bell.” Their swords collided, harder each time.

 _She loved him_.

It had always been them, together, against the world, so how did it come down to them against each other?

_Together._

A thought occurred to her. A crazy, unlikely one, but a thought nonetheless.

Slowly, she moved closer to him, bringing the blade to meet his throat yet again. His eyes widened in confusion, curiosity.

“Together?” She whispered, voice shaking. Her eyes closed as she felt his sword move to press against her throat in the same spot hers pressed against his. A tear fell down her face unknowingly, and her eyes snapped open at the gentleness of the thumb of his other hand wiping it away in contrast with the cool metal against her throat.

_She loved him._

“Together.”

The crowd fell silent.

**Author's Note:**

> “Love is the strongest weapon ever launched against the schemes of darkness.” -Kris Vallotton
> 
> Might not be my strongest work (in my opinion), but I really enjoyed writing this and hope you all enjoyed reading as well! Kudos and comments are very much appreciated, let me know what you think :)
> 
> (p.s. I wrote this at about 3 in the morning so forgive any errors there may be, though I tried to search for those as much as possible)


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